Snapped
by SuperLeaf
Summary: The nations and their counterparts, the 2ps, clash violently together. The 2ps are not there for peace, but there is something buried deep inside the 1p nations that is more savage than anything they've every seen. It all depends on how deep they will have to dig until the 1p nations snap. Rated M for violence and to be safe.
1. Matthew I

**Warning: I wrote these usually while pissed. Violence. They are in short (super short ugh) parts but I separated them for impact, mostly.**

 **Um... yeah, there will be at least two sets, _mayybe_ three. Maybe. (update: there are three)**

 **Note: do not read if you LOVE the 2p nations. They are not loved in this fic.**

 **I do not own hetalia.**

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Matthew screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, but he knew nobody was coming. He knew he had no guardian angel awaiting his call, no demon awaiting his anguish. Everyone was preoccupied. Everyone was too busy.

Too busy, as usual.

But this time, he needed help for someone else. Though Matthew was in a considerable amount of pain himself, his twin was in much, much more. Alfred writhed on the ground in agony, face twisted to match the horrors he was feeling or seeing. Over him stood the smug figure of his counterpart, the twisted version of Alfred himself. A dripping syringe was held lightly in the villain's hand, the liquid already injected into the thrashing American.

"Alfred!" Matthew screamed, but no one was coming. Not even for Alfred.

"Shut up!" A rough hand cuffed him on the side of the head and he fell to the ground, the smack being one of many from before. His own counterpart was the dealer of the hit and he held the hysterical Canadian back, keeping him from helping his brother.

"There isn't enough room in the world for two Americas." Allen's eyes glinted dangerously. "Or two Canadas, for that matter. Though this world's seems so passive it would be more fun to play than to take him out. You, however, are much too strong for your own good. It's really too bad; I was looking forward to spending more time with you."

A smirk stretched across the redhead's face. "But don't worry too much, doll. You'll probably survive to see me again." Alfred groaned in agony and laughter peeled from the standing American. With a solid kick to Alfred's side, Allen stalked off.

"You're pathetic," Matthew heard in his ear, the rough voice sending fearful shivers through him. "Canada is the strongest nation of them all, but here, you're worthless." Matthew flinched at hearing his inner thoughts vocalized.

"I can't even stand to look at you right now." Matt threw him to the ground and Matthew heard retreating footsteps. The blonde nation whimpered and curled in on himself until he heard the heart-wrenching sound of Alfred's pain.

"A-Alfred?" Matthew crawled over to the American hesitantly, blood dripping from his leg. He barely even noticed it as he pressed his hand to his brother's forehead, drawing it away with a hiss. The normally brazen American was burning up.

"A-Alfred, I'll go get… get help, okay?" Matthew said quietly. There was no sign that his brother heard him and Matthew tried to stand up. After a dozen failed tries, he accepted there was no way he was going to support his weight on his mutilated leg. He settled for lying next to his brother and periodically wiping the sweat off his brow, too fatigued to do anything else.

As he stared at Alfred a certain sadness overtook him. The American let out a pained shout and the sadness deepened into self-deprecation. If only he was stronger, if only he could stand up for Alfred as he had done so many times for him…

"M-Matt-ie…" Alfred sputtered out. The Canadian turned his attention to his brother frantically, the American staring up at him through glazed eyes.

"Yes, Al?" Matthew whispered, brushing some hair out of his brother's eyes.

"I… can't see. I-I can't see!" Alfred started thrashing again, crying out. Matthew flinched and gathered his twin in his arms, calming him down somewhat.

"It's okay, Alfred. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." Matthew was grateful for his naturally soothing voice because he was terrified.

"B-but I-I'm…" Alfred coughed violently and twitched. He mumbled something incoherent but Matthew could make out the word "Hero".

"Even a hero needs protection sometimes," Matthew said softly, hugging him to his chest. Alfred's unseeing eyes blinked rapidly, tears falling freely.

"Please protect me Mattie…" Alfred murmured before finally slipping into unconsciousness. Matthew froze.

Alfred _never_ asked for help. He was always the hero, the one protecting him. And their corrupt counterparts, the nations from another world, had dragged Alfred so low that he had weakly asked for Matthew's help. They had tortured him and Alfred for hours using various methods when they decided to take out Alfred, the stronger one of the two.

They did this. They were the reason why he couldn't walk and Alfred was sick and agonized.

He felt anger rise up inside him, pushing against the edge. Matthew knew his limits and knew if he wanted to stay normal he had to reign it in, but he made no such effort. Anger swirled through his veins and pulsed in his bones as an unknown amount of time passed.

"Hey, boys. Long time no see." An evil smirk was on Allen's face. His brother was right behind him, Matt's smirk less visible but more sinister. A hockey stick was clenched in his grasp and Matthew's eyes zeroed in on it.

"Oh, he's still alive? I'd say bummer, but I'm just so _excited_ to start playing again!" Allen's eyes landed on Alfred and he licked his lips.

 _Snap_


	2. Ludwig I

**It's killing me how short these have to be.**

 **Meh. I do not own Hetalia.**

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"Ludwig! Ludwig, no! Stop, you can't-!" Feliciano's rambling cut off as he dissolved into a blubbering mess, words like "Ludwig" and "you can't" and "not again" making many appearances. Luciano stared on in interest, wondering what the uptight German could do, especially while chained and held back by his own counterpart.

"Feli…" Ludwig rumbled, his teeth grinding against each other and he strained against the industrial-strength chains and Lutz.

"Well, this is certainly progress!" Luciano cackled unpleasantly, reaching back and snagging the other Italian's hair violently and snapping his head back. Feliciano whimpered, staring at his vicious counterpart with tears in his eyes. A malicious grin was sitting comfortably on Luciano's face and he leered at the shivering Italian.

"I can't believe you're such an _idiot_." His grin twisted into a look of scorn and he threw Feliciano back to the ground. Feliciano's arm landed awkwardly and he cried out. Ludwig struggled with renewed vigor and Luciano settled his red gaze on the German instead.

" _You,_ however, are quite interesting. While Lutz here follows my every command, you have so many nations under your own." Luciano's eyes darkened as Ludwig returned his stare defiantly. "It sickens me."

Ludwig's blue eyes narrowed and he spat on the ground at Luciano's feet. The Italian recoiled in disgust and glared at the German. "You'll pay for that."

"Do whatever you wish to me. It will not be worse than what I have endured!" Ludwig growled defiantly. Luciano stared for a moment before turning swiftly and snatching the front of Feliciano's shirt and punching him across the face. Feliciano yelled in pain and Ludwig's muscles strained against the metal futily.

"I never said it would be with _your_ torture…" Luciano bent down and gently stroked the side of Feliciano's face, humming in thought. "You're so pretty, Feliciano. It's a shame, truly, to wreck such a beautiful piece of nature."

"Don't touch him!" Ludwig roared, the chains shifting against each other with loud noises. Lutz grunted as he pulled his passionate counterpart back in case the chains started weakening. Ludwig swore loudly and shouted insults at Luciano, who tutted impatiently.

"Ah ah ah, Ludwig. You'll only make his punishment worse." Luciano's expression darkened with pleasure at the thought of the coming events. "Perhaps I'll start with the fingers. No, I'll cut through that pretty little face of yours. Maybe I'll carve something nice in your body, Feli, you'll look so lovely." Luciano turned to Ludwig with a sadistic grin. "And you'll be watching the entire time."

This caused Ludwig to freeze. It was bad enough that Feliciano was going to be tortured, but the Italian had been tortured before. Never before, however, had the German been forced to watch his friend go through that with no way of saving him. His deep fury started building, and it must have shown on his face since Feliciano started blubbering again.

"No Ludwig, I don't want to go but you can't, you can't, you can't! No no no stop! We agreed! Nations agreed to never let it happen again! Ludwig!"

"What the hell are you going on about?" Luciano said viciously, kicking the Italian in the side. Feliciano cried out and his pleas became incomprehensible. Ludwig was silent and actually listening to his friend, half-trying to reign his anger back to prevent-

"I've rethought it. I think I'll start with your eyes." Luciano pressed his palm against Feliciano's cheek, rubbing his thumb just beneath his right eye.

 _Snap._


	3. Lovino I

**I'm a little freaked out because Guest, how the holy hell did you know/guess that Lovino was the third one? (the third and, as of right now, final one before I get to... part II) (oh and thanks for the review!)**

 **Anyway, enjoy the third chapter. I do not own hetalia.**

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Lovino had never felt such fear swirling through his body before. Not during the fights over Italy, not when Antonio had gotten deathly sick, not when Feliciano had disappeared for a month with nothing to go off of. Because right now, he was staring into the dark red gaze of his counterpart. Initially cheery, the italian had delved into torturous territory while maintaining a sickeningly cheerful appearance.

And what made it all worse was that Antonio was there, and so was his counterpart. The other Spain was much more terrifying than Antonio on a daily basis. It reminded Lovino of-

No, he couldn't think about that. They made a pact to never let it happen again. All the countries buried it deep inside them, never to be drawn to the surface.

"You're so _ugly_ , Lovino," Flavio mused, turning his counterpart's face this way and that. "You have all the perfect features but you wear drab clothes and probably only spend ten minutes in front of a mirror."

Lovino scowled viciously but said nothing. He couldn't- his throat was sore from screaming and from the scalding liquid they had poured down it, all with Antonio strapped to a chair, forced to watch the italian go through torture. Lovino went through plenty of it while in the mafia, but these freaks took it to a whole new level.

"Santiago," Flavio snapped, gesturing with his hand jerkily. The other Spain grabbed some scissors and handed them to Flavio, who turned the tool over in his hands with a murderously thoughtful expression on his face.

"Mm… no, I'll just carve," Flavio tossed the scissors behind him and ignored the muffled grunt of pain from Antonio, who was hit in the shoulder by the exposed blade. Flavio grabbed a knife that was next to him and traced Lovino's neck thoughtfully, not quite piercing the skin but enough to leave a puffy red line. His former wounds had healed and Lovino was determined to not let the freakish fashionista get to him this time.

"Lovino-" Antonio gasped, Santiago instantly wrapping his meaty fists around the spaniard's throat before he could get another word out. But that was enough and Lovino's eyes flashed to Antonio's frantically.

"Or I could just…" Flavio turned around and plunged the blade through Antonio's knee, not bothering to take it out and leaving Santiago to draw the blade in the most agonizing way possible. Antonio scrunched up his face. He tried not to scream, but he failed when Santiago cut through a large nerve ending in his leg. Lovino froze at the unnatural sound.

From all of this torture, Antonio had not screamed. He had grunted, huffed, and yelled unintelligible words, but never had a scream torn from his throat. It must have been the last straw and Lovino was very, very afraid.

"Antonio~" Flavio purred, a different knife in his hands- god forbid he got blood on his clothes- and a morbid smile curling across his face. Antonio glared at him but blanched when he saw Flavio make a thin cut on Lovino's arm. Lovino gritted his teeth in preparation.

"Lovino, Lovino, Lovino," Flavio's voice was smooth as silk. "So fiery, so weak. Completely unable to protect those you care about, hmm?"

"Sh-shut up!" Antonio rasped out. Santiago stood behind his counterpart but did not restrain his tongue this time. It was time to resort to a different kind of torture.

"Antonio, but darling, wasn't it you who always protected him? But not this time, oh no." Lovino snarled silently and Flavio laughed. "You two have such an unbreakable bond, it's almost adorable! But no, I think it's more… disgusting, don't you think so, Santiago?"

Santiago grinned darkly and reached behind him, revealing red-hot chains. Antonio's counterpart then stuffed wax- most likely still-hot wax- into Antonio's ears, and the normally-cheerful spaniard's eyes widened. He would not be able to hear anything said or done.

Flavio continued, "Perhaps it's time to put an end to this relationship, hmm?"

Lovino froze yet again. He couldn't mean-?

"Oh yes, Lovino~" Flavio purred, stroking Antonio's face as one would do to a beautiful, but temporary, object. "Aren't you excited to see the dead eyes of your lover on top of a burning neck?"

The words did not have the desired effect and Flavio frowned. Lovino, however, was caught in frozen time, eyes darkening as he felt very close to committing the one crime among nations that nobody dared break. Antonio saw the look in his eyes and tried to stop him with his voice, his eyes, anything at all, but Lovino was passed the point of no return.

The dark-haired italian moved his darkened gaze, his back straightening as he stared into Flavio's disdainful eyes.

"Have you ever heard of the italian mafia?"

 _Snap._


	4. Matthew II

**First of the after effects of snapping, and, honestly, the least graphic (so far).**

 **Super satisfying to write these second parts, by the way. Oh, and thanks for the reviews!**

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Matthew snarled ferally, eyes narrowed and lips drawn back. Alfred was clutched to his chest possessively, the american letting out stuttering breaths. He stirred slightly, eyes fluttering open and closed.

"Um…" Allen paused, cocking his head curiously. "This is a development." Matt grunted in agreement next to him, one eyebrow raised in disdainful interest.

Matthew only tightened his hold. He had snapped, and he was stronger than a moose, more vicious than a bear, and these men had threatened his brother.

"Get him off of my America, I can't do anything with him in the way." Allen gestured towards the two beat-up countries flippantly. Matt glanced at his brother, his lips pressed together. After nothing happened Allen groaned; "I'm not ordering you, it's a suggestion."

Matt shrugged and stalked forwards with his hockey stick swinging ominously from his meaty fists. Matthew followed the movement like a wounded animal. Which he was.

Matt swung the stick at Matthew's head swiftly, intending to knock the slight man in the head and off of Alfred, who was moving a bit more as well. Matthew's eyes darkened and he snarled, reaching up and catching the hockey stick midair. Matt froze as Matthew ripped the weapon out of his hands and started wielding it himself.

Matthew breathed deeply and a rattling, guttural sound emerged from his throat. It was very threatening and warned the two before him. Alfred groaned and tried to sit up but found himself encased in his brother's arms.

"Mattie…?" Alfred murmured. Matthew glanced down at the tired american and leaned close to him, placing his forehead against his brother's. Alfred furrowed his eyebrows when he saw Matthew's violet eyes but soon realized what had happened. "No…"

"Ugh, this is not okay." Allen stalked over and kicked Matthew in the back viciously while Matthew was distracted with his waking brother. Both wounded brothers froze, but for very different reasons.

"Mattie, Mattie, say something…" Alfred reached up to his brother but Matthew had already sat upright and was forcing himself to his feet. He was shaking with restrained anger and, somehow, managed to stay upright on his destroyed leg.

Allen widened his eyes. This couldn't be possible. The Canada from this world was quiet and submissive, not… this. Not this.

Matthew screamed, a loud, low sound that rattled the two counterpart's to their bone marrow. Seconds later Matthew surged forwards and slammed his fist into Allen's face, violently following up with twisting the redhead's arm behind his back so quickly that it snapped. The villain jerked in surprise and Matthew smashed his head with his own, downing the other America.

Before his counterpart knew what was happening Matthew viciously brought the hard wood of the hockey stick down on the Canadian's juncture between his neck and shoulder. Matthew brought the weapon back with insane speed and jammed it into Matt's stomach. He lurched forwards and spat, blood and saliva splattering onto the ground. When Matthew brought the hockey back his counterpart slumped to the ground.

"Mattie-!" Alfred cried out. Matthew's eyes narrowed and he gave his counterpart a swift kick before addressing his brother.

Alfred stared at the Canadian before him. He knew it was his brother, but he also knew that his brother was different. At some point while he was unconscious, Matthew had done what every country had sworn not to do: snap. Eventually he would be back to normal, but for now, Alfred was going to have to deal with a rabid Canadian.

"Mattie… I-" Alfred tried to crawl towards him but yelped when a red-hot pain shot up his side. In a second Matthew was beside him and cradling his head, soothing him with unintelligible words. Alfred couldn't help himself from leaning into his warm embrace. Alfred knew it was only a matter of time before their counterparts would be ready to fight back. He knew, but Matthew was so comforting…

This was the snapped Canada. Alfred had no idea if Matthew would be able to talk or not, because his brother was acting more like a bear than anything else, which made a lot of sense in his mind. Motherly and defensive to a fault.

His body humming with pain from the former injection but his mind soothed with the cooing of Matthew's whispers, Alfred felt his eyes flutter shut. Matthew nuzzled his neck as the American slipped into unconsciousness.


	5. Ludwig II

**I... rather like how this one turned out. Thank you to the reviewers!**

 **Romano's is longer than I thought it would be so far... it's kind of annoying me, since I know he would want to draw it out, but I'm really impatient...**

 **Hope you enjoy Ludwig's portion of vengeance.**

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Ludwig tore through the chains, snagging them with his hands and whipping them across Lutz's face, leaving long gashes on his cheeks. In a split second Ludwig had the chains wrapped around Luciano's neck, holding them behind his head and leering into his eyes.

Luciano didn't seem too worried by this, and smirked. He also found this change rather interesting and fun, and did not fight back to see what was going to happen. Feliciano was frozen, a few whimpers escaping his lips.

"The eyes, the eyes, always experimenting with the eyes," Ludwig snickered, completely unlike himself. "Beautiful eyes with differing colors, they always change with some tampering. So annoying."

Luciano raised an eyebrow. This man was acting more like someone from their world. He saw Lutz sneaking up behind his counterpart and smirked to himself.

"But, the injections always hurt them too much, they never trusted me, they never ever trusted- or, maybe they would die, then they couldn't trust-" Lutz knocked Ludwig's head to the side with a violent _crack_. The German crashed to the side but held himself up with a hand. He slowly straightened, a completely different persona all at once.

Ludwig's eyes were darkened and his hands were folded behind his back like a general. Luciano was very pleased by this.

"Does it change every time he is hit in the head? Try it again, Lutz," he commanded. Feliciano cried out as Lutz picked up the chains and slashed them against his counterpart's chest, but Ludwig did not flinch. Lutz tried again against his face but Ludwig's head did not turn to the side even slightly.

"Oh no, oh no no, it's here, it's here-" Feliciano started to cry again, and Ludwig turned his attention towards the babbling Italian.

"Italy. Get over here." His tone was clipped and cold, and Feliciano wasted no time in trying to reach his friend. Tried being the key word, since Luciano grabbed the back of his collar before the Italian could reach his destination.

"Ah ah ah, we aren't done with you yet," Luciano said playfully. Ludwig was not in the mood.

"Let go of him," Ludwig commanded him.

Luciano scoffed. "Yeah right. Lutz, take him down. He's boring me." Lutz cracked his knuckles and Ludwig turned his attention to his counterpart, unfazed.

Lutz took a swing at Ludwig's face but Ludwig dodged out of the way, slamming his elbow into his counterpart's side. "You're sloppy in both dress and form, putting all of your strength into a single punch. Three points would be docked."

Lutz brought himself back upright and did a faux uppercut before aiming his fist for Ludwig's gut. His fist was stopped in Ludwig's hand and the German squeezed his counterpart's hand viciously, a few snaps and cracks sounding. "It is obvious what you are about to do and are incapable of following through. Two points docked."

His counterpart growled and brought his left fist up against Ludwig's face, finally landing a hit. Ludwig touched his lip, which was bleeding, with a sickeningly cool composure. He looked at the red on his fingers and ducked under another punch, sliding out of the way of a kick. "You cannot seem to find any of my weak points or take advantage of distractions. Sloppy form. Three points docked."

"Shut. Up!" Lutz snarled, bringing his fist to smash into the side of Ludwig's face. He caught Lutz's forearm directly before his fist came into contact with his face. Ludwig stared unflinchingly at Lutz, his ice-blue eyes colder than the depths of the arctic.

"Total of eight points docked within the time of one point five minutes. That is marked up as a failure."

Ludwig leaned in towards Lutz's eyes and caught his other fist, which was attempting to catch Ludwig off guard. "Failed."

Ludwig methodically slammed his own fist into Lutz's gut and followed up with a vicious knee to the groin. As Lutz was bent over, Ludwig brought his elbow down on the German's back, downing his counterpart. Ludwig kicked the man in the side and rolled him over, eyes no different from what they were before their fight. Smoldering, icy, and ruthless.

He placed his foot in the center of Lutz's chest and stared into his counterpart's eyes before mercilessly crushing his ribcage and puncturing his lungs. Ludwig did not revel in his win and instead picked his foot up, set it next to Lutz's crushed chest, and walked over to Luciano and Feliciano with curt steps.

Luciano gaped at the German before him, but wielded his knife no differently, throwing one straight for his chest. Ludwig did not manage to catch the knife, but his hand was in front of his chest in time for the knife to hit its mark.

He unflinchingly took the knife out of his hand, blood running down his sleeve and to the ground. Luciano was already ready with another knife and stabbed it into Ludwig's left upper arm before the German's right arm flashed out and wrapped itself around Luciano's neck.

Luciano slashed another knife down the forearm connected to the hand that was currently choking him, but Ludwig was unmoving. His grip tightened and Luciano felt himself losing control, which he was not okay with.

The Italian lashed out with his legs and managed to get Ludwig to drop him. He fell with a gasp, rubbing at his neck angrily.

"You-!" Luciano snarled, whipping around with his knives and flinging them almost haphazardly. Ludwig ducked under three and picked up the chains in the process, whipping them around Luciano's legs and tripping the Italian up.

He was behind Luciano when the Italian shot to his feet and he brought his hands around Luciano's neck in a flash. Before Luciano could blink, Ludwig quickly and cleanly snapped his neck, dropping him to the ground without another thought.

Felciano was trembling and looked like he was going to simultaneously scream and throw up at the same time. It had been so long, so long since he had seen Ludwig's snapped form.

"Feliciano," Ludwig said, voice slightly softer than before. His eyes were a bit thawed, as they were for only Italy. "We should go before they regenerate."

Feliciano let out a sob and he crumbled to the ground, unable to keep himself upright. Ludwig was by his side in an instant, leaning over the Italian. "I am sorry you had to see that, but we need to leave. Can you walk?"

"His chest just… it's caved, and his neck just, it just, snapped, and they're dead, but they're not dead," Feliciano babbled through tears. Ludwig did not get angry and merely picked the Italian up. Feliciano curled into the German's chest, trying to ignore the gore around him and the blood -Ludwig's blood, oh god- seeping through his shirt. He cried, and the two left their decimated counterparts.


End file.
